


A home made and a house left behind

by Universes_Mystery



Series: There’s gotta be a happy ending for us somewhere [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, As happy as it can be ig, Bad Dad Philza, Child Neglect, Dream and Wilbur became BFFS, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Philza is bad at feelinfs, Philza plays favorites and Wilbur is sad, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, endings a bit corny, found family but I broke it, idk what else to tag this, no beta we die like George and sapnaps trust in dream, particularly parental feelings, philza is trying his best but unfortunately he ruined two perfectly good kids, so is techno, their both horrible at it, unhealthy family dynamics, yes siree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29396235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Universes_Mystery/pseuds/Universes_Mystery
Summary: There’s a sniffle and then Dream walks and opens the door. He turns around to face Wilbur who’s now watching him with an eyebrow raised. “I’ll uh, try to visit some more. No offense but this place-“ Dream looks around the house almost comically, “this places feels lonely and I’ve only been here for like, thirty minutes.”Wilbur stiffens at that, “I hope you eat shit.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: There’s gotta be a happy ending for us somewhere [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159460
Comments: 12
Kudos: 276





	A home made and a house left behind

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this at night pog champ

Wilbur shivers under his wool sweater. He glances at the window and watches the sun gleam across of winter’s remains. Spring should be a sign for warmer weather. He almost cried when he woke up to the suns warm rays shining through the windows. 

He groans when a toddlers cries shatter the lonely silence. He loves Tommy, he truly does. But Wilbur is only a kid, he wonders how long this’ll go on before he decides to talk to Phil. 

He stares absently at the white ground. 

Never, he realizes only a second later. Even if he wants to shatter the happy atmosphere when his dad and older brother get back, he’s scared that once he starts talking- all of his fears will turn out true. At least now he can chalk them up as irrational. 

There must be something ironic, he repeats, in the cool weather outside and the raging fire within himself. 

Wilbur walks up the stairs to calm down his little brother. 

* * *

Once, when Tommy had gotten a high fever as a toddler, Wilbur was forced to run to the nearby village for help. They were all more than happy to assist and when the worst was over he made sure to ask for some instructions on what to do if it happened again. 

Wilbur had sent a letter to Phil and Techno, alerting them of Tommy’s sickness. 

No letter arrived and the duo had came back after two weeks. Neither mentioned the close call with Tommy. 

_Maybe_ , he thinks, _he can pretend the letter got lost in the wind._

* * *

  
The night is usually silent apart from the whisper of trees and the moans from the monsters roaming at the edge of the forest. Which is why Wilbur is immediately on alert at the quiet footsteps that seem to circle the house. 

Wilbur walks to his window, slowly. _If he can hear them they can hear me,_ he keeps in mind. The window opens, letting the cool breeze in. Wilbur slowly peers out and looks down. 

A smiley face stares creepily up at him. 

Wilbur freezes at the attention. 

The face tilts observantly, the moonlight reflects on the already silver locks which Wilbur hopes isn’t from age because he’s only just turned eleven-

“Hi.” 

Wilbur stares, “Uh, hi?”

The man shuffles a bit, “You- you uh. You wouldn’t happen to have any food,” he glanced up back at Wilbur, “would you? To spare.” He adds. 

The voice has a nervous tilt to it as the stranger underneath him pockets his hands. Wilbur wills himself to actually look at him and realizes that this is- is just a kid. Like him. 

He has nothing but body language to go on but it is undeniable, a child. Still Wilbur doesn’t really put any trust in that conclusion, it’s not like he’s been around a lot of kids. 

Wilbur should lock the window and then double check the locks on everything else. He should grab his sword and threaten the kid to leave. He should point him in the direction of the village and leave him outside- anything than what he’s currently doing. 

Wilbur marches down the stairs and opens the door. Unsurprisingly, no ones there but he quickly walks outside around the corner of the house. 

He pats himself on the back, the stranger really is a kid. A really tall kid but one all the same. Wilbur waves him over as he walks back to the entrance. He hears him startle and quick footsteps fall in place behind him. When they get back to the front door he motions for the stranger to take off his shoes- he really doesn’t want to clean up this late at night. 

The kid follows his lead and he makes a beeline for the still burning fireplace, which makes Wilbur wince. Damnit he forgot to check if the fire was still burning, he mentally berates himself while ignoring the awkward atmosphere. The white mask isn’t facing him but for some reason he still feels like the other is watching him, closely. 

Wilbur stalks to the cabinet and pulls out some dried out meat. Jerky, his older brother, Techno had called it. He rememberers watching him prepare for one of the longer trips and Techno had been in a good enough mood to teach him. Wilbur smiles to himself at the memory. 

He shakes himself out when the soft creaking of wood lingers. Right, he mutters. Quickly he shakes out some old bread and water along with the jerky and walks himself back to main room.

The mask is facing him now, the kids body however had moved from the fireplace to lingering around photographs. 

The stranger reaches out expectedly, Wilbur has other plans however. 

Almost childishly, he raises the bag away. “I have a few questions first,” he states. As tempting as it is to just let the other take the food and leave, it’s still alarming that the house was stumbled on even if it’s somehow by complete accident. 

Even if the mask is eerily creepy, the strangers body language gives off enough that he can tell this wasn’t expected. _Tough luck,_ Wilbur thinks dryly. 

“Uh, yeah sure I mean. Yeah what kind of questions...?” The kid rubs the back of his neck. Wilbur hums, “Well, first things first I guess. How did you find you’re way here? It’s not like we’re in any relative range of the nearest village. “ 

The kid stays silent for a bit, “This- uh this might be a bit- alarming but please let me finish first before you take any action. There- might be a few....hunters after me....right now?” They trail off at the sight of Wilburs stare. Wilbur who is astonished because did this guy just lead hunters here? He makes a move to get up- _possibly to kill the guy himself_ but then panicked words stumble out of the kids mouth. 

“But-! They’re camping for the night! That’s why I’m- I went through a rough terrain so they decided to rest for the night! So I’m just trying to uh gain some miles. I just didn’t know I was like, low of food. But I found your house so-“ They walk around the table with the bag of food in their- huh?

Wilbur glances around him where he last left the bag of food and finds it gone. “So, I’m just gonna- get out of your hair.” 

Wilbur stares at him for an uncomfortable period of time. “If you think that when whatever hunters are after you come, that I won’t rat you out. Please continue.” He urges. 

His shoulders shake, _probably in laughter that bastard,_ but it’s quickly snuffed out as the fire crackles next to him. “Can I at least know the name of my insufferable house guest?” Wilbur drawls. 

The kid tilts his head at that and is not even trying to hide the fact that he’s obviously heading to the door that leads outside, “Yeah sure that- yeah that sounds about right. It’s uhm, Dream.” There’s an expectation that unknowingly comes when they say their name. 

Too bad Wilbur’s been known to disappoint, “I genuinely have no clue who the fuck that is.”

That makes the other pause and a wheeze slips out as his hunches over and holds himself up by his knees. “Y-yeah. Ok-“ another wheeze slips out and Wilbur watches the stranger imitate a tea kettle for thirty seconds. 

Wilbur cracks a smile and quickly turns to face the wall when the other manages to calm down. Still, they don’t leave when the doors right there.

“What about you?” 

Wilbur rolls it over, it’s not like giving it to them will affect anything but he still hesitates a bit. “Wilbur.” Short and to the point, hopefully they get the message. 

There’s a sniffle and then Dream walks and opens the door. He turns around to face Wilbur who’s now watching him with an eyebrow raised. “I’ll uh, try to visit some more. No offense but this place-“ Dream looks around the house almost comically, “this places feels lonely and I’ve only been here for like, thirty minutes.” 

Wilbur stiffens at that, “I hope you eat shit.” 

It’s laughable how he can feel Dream pout through the mask. He leaves and the door closes with a click. Wilbur shivers at the breeze as of a result and curses out Dream internally.

_Damn bastard let the goddamn cold air in._

Wilbur can feel exhaustion leak through now that no ones around. A quick glance at the clock confirms that Tommy won’t wake up for another few hours. He turns to walk to his room and pass out but before that he looks around the main room. A table in the middle of the room, a nice fireplace, photographs almost awkwardly placed pinned to a wall. The room is furnished and full, yet he can understand where Dream’s coming from. 

For the next few weeks, Wilbur feels the loneliness more prominently than before.

* * *

A few weeks after Tommy learns to run around the house, Dream comes around again. It had probably been a few months since last time and in all honesty there was a sort of hope that Dream would keep his promise. 

Dream originally wasn’t even supposed to know Tommy existed, well originally _he wasn’t supposed to come back at all-,_ he probably assumed Wilbur lived in some house all by himself. It’s probably why he found it immensely amusing when he heard a crash and a scream midday only to find Dream scrambled in the corner while Tommy stood still in the middle of the room. 

Still there was a sort of anxious feeling in him as he hurriedly took Tommy up to his crib and left some toys to entertain him. When he came back down, Dream had attempted to fix everything he knocked over and was increasingly interested at whatever was going on outside.

“So are you scared of kids or was that supposed to be a one time thing?” 

Dream whirls around and Wilbur notes that his mask on still. He should probably ask questions about that but he has a feeling it’d be like poking a hungry bear. He values his life, thanks. 

Wilbur clears his throat, “What are you doing here again anyway?” A few seconds tick by before Dream loosens his shoulders. “Just passing by.” 

He narrows his eye at the other, _asshole_. 

“I hope those hunters of yours are currently busy, I’m not looking for a fight anywhere near here. “

The mask wearer manages to wince and laugh at that. “Oh no yeah I uh- I broke their compass so it’ll be a while before they fix it. I thought why not drop by y’know?” 

Wilbur does not fail to stiffen at the mention of a compass. Compasses, while they weren’t exactly expensive, weren’t used on common criminals or hunts. They were only issued for crimes that related to nobles and above. It could be something from a multiple house hit to assassination or even treason. 

Suddenly his eyes are drawn to the loose weapons around Dream’s waist and the shield on his back and the armor underneath the green hoodie. 

Suddenly he doesn’t feel quite as comfortable with Dream, a guy who’s face is hidden by a mocking smile. 

A part of Wilbur wants to remember that Dream is just a kid, like him. 

_Like Techno._

The atmosphere doesn’t lighten from there until Dream manages the courage to speak up. 

“So..why do you live here? I mean it’s like, way off the map dude.” 

“Privacy, safety. You name it, it’s also not like I couldn’t get to a village if I needed to.”

Dream shrugs, “Yeah I guess but also like, it’s gotta be hard. Just like you and some demon baby.” 

Wilbur doesn’t fail to snort at that, “That’s my little brother Tommy, he’s a menace but I love him.” He looks up, “Also we’re not like, alone here.” 

Dream makes a point to look around the room before staring at Wilbur. 

“Yeah ok I get how it seems but the guy who took us in is like, some adventurer or whatever. Doesn’t really like staying in one spot for long even though I thought old people were supposed to settle or some shit. I stay back though to watch Tommy and stuff.” 

Wilbur doesn’t mention how it’s not really a choice, all the invitation requests seem half hearted or like inside-jokes between Phil and Techno. 

“Aw man that sucks, don’t you wanna be there with them?” 

Wilbur thinks about it for a minute. 

“Nah, not really,” he lies. 

* * *

  
After he shoves Dream out the door into the snow and doesn’t hear any begging to be let back in, Wilbur thinks more about it. 

Because the thing is- while he doesn’t like monster hunting or whatever the fuck Techno and Phil do. He does want to be with them because he wants to spend time with them. 

Wilbur thinks to his guitar up in his room. He thinks about how happy song-making is and how the process makes him giddy and laugh. He thinks how for a while, he’s only had Tommy to sing to. 

He remembers singing to Phil and his older brother, he remembers their humming. Then the praise and how happy it made him. 

Finally he remembers Phil gently trying to tug a small ukulele from his grubby hands because he wanted to train him with swords instead.

Wilbur had put it down and stopped fighting Phil about it, he let him train him. For some odd reason Phil had called it off one day. He still wonders if he did something to cause that. 

It’s not like he’s bad at combat, _maybe Techno’s just more fun,_ Wilbur reasons.

Somehow that doesn’t make him feel better.

A bit too late, Wilbur feels like maybe he shouldn’t have let Dream in that first night. 

_Still the seed of doubt has been planted. It only grows from there._

* * *

Phil and Techno return almost a week after Dream came back. Wilbur doesn’t hear them from the top floor as he belts out random lyrics to Tommy. Tommy looks enchanted and Wilbur feels on top of the world. 

With a final strum he looks at Tommy expectingly and as usual, rapid clapping comes from his small baby hands as he babbles something. Wilbur makes a dramatic bow, “Thank you, Thank you! No really it’s too much- no sir it was my pleasure to perform for you!” 

A deep monotone laugh comes from the corner of the door and Wilbur feels like a bucket of ice dropped down his back. 

He turns to find his pig headed brother staring at him with a glint in his eyes. 

“haven’t heard you sing in a while y’know.” 

Wilbur feels so fucking uncomfortable right now it’s not even _funny._

“Oh uh, yeah?” He answers awkwardly. 

He’s really glad Tommy’s at an age where he can’t remember shit because even though he’s seen Techno at least twenty times, he does not fail to scream when he realizes there’s a stranger in his field of vision. 

Wilbur happily accepts this distraction and ignores the huff that comes from the doorway. There’s a low mutter and then there’s silence. 

He pretends that Tommy’s cries covered up the words that left Techno’s mouths. 

It doesn’t stop from haunting him at night though. 

_“Lets hope Tommy doesn’t grow up as soft as you, Wil”_

_He hopes so too._

* * *

During one of Dream’s visits, Wilbur can’t hold it in anymore. 

“Do you think I’m soft,” he blurts out. His shoulders hike up to his ears as he berates himself because _what the fuck is he thinking._

Dream stares at him and tilts his head. He turns back to his wood carving and Wilbur does too. A few moments of silence pass and Wilbur’s honestly thinking of making some dumb excuse to leave when- 

“I don’t think you’re soft. I think you’re kind, that you’re a great big brother, that you’re a cool friend-“ _and doesn’t Wilbur die at that he has a friend-_ “Plus I’ve seen you barter at the villagers dude, that’s like straight up magic! So no I don’t think you’re soft it’s just- I don’t know.” Dream shrugs and maybe if Wilbur knew his friend a little less, he wouldn’t have noticed the line of tension on his shoulders. 

Wilbur does though and he leans bumps shoulders which causes the knife in Dream’s hand to scatter and make a scar on the owls face. 

“God- Wilbur look at what you did! This is- I genuinely hate you right now.” Dream laughs as he inspects the wooden sculpture. 

Wilbur is filled with a sudden urge to show him his guitar. He’s also filled with the urge to sing to him. He wants to so badly but a part of him is filled with what ifs. The risk of what happens if it’s just- listened to because it’s polite. 

_Wilbur remembers the faces of Techno and Phil and he remembers the laughter that followed soon after and he remembers the light tugging of his favorite ukulele-_

Well, it’s not like it’ll ruin his life, he sighs. 

“Do you-“ Wilbur stammers, “would you like to...listen to me sing.”

The bright smile Dream gave him and the enthusiastic yes, convinces him that it was worth it. 

* * *

  
“So how have you been Wilbur?” Philza asks while digging into his dinner. Wilbur stares at his own dinner. Rabbit and carrots, _there’s gotta be a joke in there somewhere,_ he thinks. 

He thinks back on multiple visits on some supposed outlaw, on Tommy taking his first steps and comprehendible words, on his first song that made him feel accomplished and he says- 

“Nothing much, I made a new friend. He travels a bit though so you probably won’t be seeing him that much.” 

His shoulders hike up to his ears when he hears Techno snort. “Yeah sure, he’s also someone we’ve never met and only manages to come around when we aren’t here.” 

“Jesus- shut the fuck up Techno, you’re only friend is an old man why don’t you focus on your goddamn self.”

Techno snarls but is calmed when Phil raises his hand in front of both Techno and Wilbur. 

He’s looking at Wilbur though when he says, “You should apologize mate, that was pretty rude.” 

A beat of silence and it clicks that- _yeah he’s talking to Wilbur._

“Wh- me?! Techno started it!” He glares at Techno. “You don’t have to go mocking me just because you’re the big and bad Technoblade-“ Wilbur spits out the title mockingly. 

He can see Techno’s hackles raise and he’s fully willing for this to turn to an argument- 

“Wilbur! Room- now.” 

Wilbur stares at Phil and his unfaltering gaze. Something dark twists inside of chest as he moves to grab his plate but the older man interrupts him. “Ah-ah-“ Phil points his finger at the plate and then back at the table, “that stays there. You can come back to eat later. Take some time to cool down.” 

Wilbur feels himself shake and he stomps his way up to his room. Tommy’s there already asleep, he absently notes that he’ll have to switch the crib to an actual bed soon. 

Well he’ll have to write a note to Phil and wait for some obscure delivery man to stumble upon the small clearing.

Wilbur can feel something in his chest, squirming around and refusing to settle. A burning feel sets alight under his skin and he paces around the room. The laughter that mingles from the dining room to the upper halls, do not help at all. 

It only worsens it as he feels his hands shake and this- frustration and loneliness squirms in him. He’s close to screaming into his pillow when a small tap against glass shakes him back to reality. 

He stares at his window and soon enough he sees a small gray rock tap against his window before it drops back down to the ground. Wilbur stumbles to it and opens it to see Dream with his arm reared back as if he was in the middle of another toss. _He probably was,_ Wilbur admits to himself. 

“What the fuck are you doing.” He blurts out as he realizes there’s a small pile of rocks beside Dream, _bastard could’ve scratched his window._

Or worse, someone could’ve heard it and investigated.

“Not to alarm you or anything but- the _THE_ Philza Minecraft is like at your dining table. Along with some piglin hybrid dude who weirdly resembles Technoblade. Just thought you should- y’know,” a beat of silence. “know.” 

Wilbur manages a chuckle, “Ah yeah, don’t worry I know they’re there. Phil’s the guy who took me in and Techno’s my older brother. He wasn’t here before me but he was definitely older than me when he showed up so he’s just- older I guess.”

“Showed up?”

“Yeah we’re not like- blood related. I don’t know if you didn’t notice but I don’t have any red eyes or wings from sprouting from my back,” Wilbur scoffs. 

He freezes up at the amount of venom that leaks from his words and he watched Dream stare up at him. 

Wilbur’s about to lean back from the window and just turn in for the night but a small cough brings his attention back to the ground.

“Well, uh don’t feel pressured but if you want we could,” he points behind him to the forest that’s definitely more threatening now that it’s dark out, “we could get you out of the house a while. No pressure but I doubt being cooped up is gonna make you feel better.” Dream stares at ground as his foot kicks up the bundle of rocks he had. 

Wilbur doesn’t even hesitate when he agrees.

* * *

Wilbur regrets it not even five minutes into the forest as an unseen branch smacks him against the face for the third time. 

Dream laughs when he hears him sputter and he pauses enough for Wilbur to join him by his side again. 

“Don’t tell me this is you’re first time traveling through here?” 

“I- it’s not like- look I was always told to keep on paths it’s not like it’s a regular _need_ to walk through this fucking crap,” he waves at a thorn bush that he almost walks into before he stares at Dream. 

“Well it’s not like you could’ve played you’re guitar so close to home, it’s better to go through here I know the place well enough.”

If that doesn’t make Wilbur double take, he’d have thought Dream would only drop by his house and leave the same way. He didn’t even think that his friend would scout the land around him or even _why_.

“That’s not slightly alarming Dream, sounds like fan behavior to me.” 

Dream laughs, “Oh- yeah Wilbur please don’t mind me I’m just your hugest fan. All this time I’ve been using you to get to know my idol better.” 

Wilbur sniffs at that, “Knew it. You couldn’t resist my handsome features and my stunning voice.” 

Dream chuckles at that and then there’s a comfortable silence between them. Soon enough they get to a small clearing, in all honestly it wasn’t even that far from Phil’s house but it probably took a while because he kept eating shit every time there wasn’t smooth ground underneath him. 

They get comfortable on the soft grass and Wilbur asks if Dream has any requests. Dream just shakes his head and says to just go, “buck-fuck wild.” 

Wilbur would usually yell at him for butchering the phrase but he’s had a tune playing in his head for a while that he’s been _dying_ to check it out. He slowly tunes his guitar and Dream’s soft breathing quells the anxiety that thrums underneath his skin. With a thrum he sings nonsense and plays tune after tune. 

Dream stays by his side the whole time, watching him play. 

Wilbur feels something settle within him.

* * *

Before he knew it, the moon had moved all the way above him and he rapidly woke up Dream who laid on the ground next to him. 

Dream walked him all the way back to his clearing but refused to walk out of the forest’s shadow. He tiredly waves Wilbur goodbye with promises to visit as soon as he can. 

Wilbur walks the rest of the way home feeling tired himself, when he looks back the only thing to greet him is trees and broken branches. 

The feeling of contentment follows him all the way to his front door and he slowly clicks it open. He walks in and kicks his shoes off before yawning. He goes to walk back to his room but- 

“Where have you been.”

Wilbur freezes. He turns around clutching the guitar case strap to find Phil in sleepwear and Techno reading by the fireplace. 

_Right, how could he have forgotten._

He loosens his grip and drops his hands by his sides. Phil’s gaze doesn’t even move from his face as Wilbur looks at anything but the others face. 

Silence swirls around them until Techno breaks it, “why did you have your guitar with you,” he drawls, “please tell me you at least took some form of weapon.” 

Wilbur’s heart clenches because he actually didn’t, he trusted Dream enough to know basic combat and Wilbur himself always feels unease when he’s near anything with a handle and a sharp end.

He doesn’t say that out loud however and instead just averts his gaze. 

Phil puts his hands in his hands and lets out a groan. 

_So sorry for causing you stress Phil,_ he mocks, _it sure is stressful for someone to leave in the middle of night right?_

_It isn’t the same,_ some part of his says. 

_It totally is,_ the petty part says. 

_But leaving wasn’t supposed to be petty, it was just supposed to be a break,_ he tries to reason with himself. But, looking at Phil’s tired gaze and Techno’s complete uninterested one, he’ll probably need a couple more breaks to make this bearable.

“I was worried Wil,”

“....sorry.”

“Just- look I’m not gonna order you around but it’s dark out and I was worried. Wil you didn’t even take a- something to protect yourself? What would you have done if something happened out there?” 

Wilbur’s shoulders are shaking at this point but he’s not going to be the one to point it out. He’s still admiring feet and traces around the bone structure he can see. 

“It’s- I’m sorry. I know but I had uhm- I had a friend with me so, nothing would’ve happened.” 

It does not make Wilbur feel better when he hears Phil’s defeated sigh. 

“Mate...” Phil trails off.

Techno butts in because _fucking of course he does._ “could we meet him anytime soon, I’d like to know my idiot brother isn’t running off with a weirdo at night.” 

Wilbur stammers, “Well uh- the thing is he already left and he doesn’t come back for a while. And you’ll only be here for like- a week. So yeah, you can’t.” 

The fire crackles and Techno lets out a huff. 

“alright but if he ever comes by when we’re here, just tell us. We’d love to meet him.” 

“Yeah- yeah ok.” Wilbur forces out. He turns back to the stairs and stumbles up them, grateful when he doesn’t hear Phil speak again to call after him.

Wilbur gets into his room and he stares at a very awake toddler for an awkward amount of time. He quickly loosens his shoulders and walks to the crib. He whispers, “demon baby,” and lays Tommy down with a blanket and hopes he gets the message before dropping onto his own bed.   
  


* * *

The rest of the year passes by uneventfully, Dream drops by more often than not. It comes to the point he has to ask about the hunters that were after him. 

He can’t really says he’s surprised that they all agreed to stop coming hunting him after a few quick chats. Now ‘hunting’ him is more of an elaborate game of tag. 

Dream had leaned in close and said, “Don’t worry though, I said this place would be like a safe zone.” 

Wilbur tried not to look too happy at that but considering the way the mask didn’t move back to wood carving, he failed. 

He can’t bring himself to feel that disgruntled about it.

* * *

Tommy’s seven when he makes a trip to the village for supplies and they meet a kid named Tubbo. They got along like a house on fire and for the first time in forever, Wilbur finds himself alone in the house. He left Tommy with Tubbo for a play date and he’s currently lazing about with a cup of hot cocoa in his hand.

It’s uncannily quiet. Wilbur feels himself doze at the warm atmosphere, it feels...homey. 

He doesn’t think he’s felt this safe and calm in a while. The last time was....most likely when Dream dragged him off in the middle of the night to sing. That was a good memory. 

For a second he wonders what his other family is doing, probably the same old shit they do all the time. 

He’s almost positive everyone thinks Techno is an only child.

The relaxing atmosphere dissipates and he stares at the warm beverage in his hand. 

He forces himself to think on something else, _he’d rather not ruin this free afternoon thank you very much._

He sips his hot cocoa again, unusually aware of the quietness that seeps into the house.   
  


* * *

Another year passes with Tommy’s birthday passing by. He can now recognize who Phil and Techno are instead of screaming at the sight of them. A relief and a tragedy all in one. 

Wilbur’s birthday rolls by oh so ever near. He doesn’t expect anything- not really. There’s always this naive hope that this year will be different but it’s shattered when a week passes and he’s waiting for nothing like an idiot. 

Still, he makes sure to write on the calendar in big bold letters. He casually drops it in conversation and he waits.

He tries not to show the excitement thrumming in his veins when the day grows near and how Phil and Techno stay. 

For the first time hope burns brighter, even if this is a one time thing, even if the food is horrible, he can’t help but smile at the thought of his birthday in a few days.   
  


* * *

They leave two days before his birthday. On the table is a poorly wrapped gift. He sends Tommy to go hang with Tubbo and then after staring at the gift for a good while, he goes upstairs. 

He looks around his room and all he can feel is a rush of emotion, anger at his- at Phil, at his older brother and anger at the world for this life. He screams and he rages and all he can ask is _why, why why._ He loves Phil and he loves Techno and he loves- and _they leave._

Wilbur’s left behind to stay and watch and clean up and _he’s left behind._

He’s almost grateful towards Phil when Tommy showed up because even if it’s exhausting. Even if it makes him want to sob and tear his head out, he’d rather take care of a kid on his own rather than get used to the suffocating quiet. 

In childish moments, staring at the way Phil looks at Techno and the way they talk and interact- he wants to scream on how _he was here first! He had no right because Wilbur was here first!_

To no avail there was nothing more heart wrenching than waking up to an empty house. 

Wilbur opens his eyes and gasps as he stares at the wreckage before him. Photographs torn and glass shattered across the floor. Items scattered and knocked over. Wilbur pushes past the tears that are threatening to spill and shoved himself into bed.   
  


* * *

The first time they had left, there wasn’t a warning. There had been small references to it and talk about it. Wilbur wasn’t even worried because he had assumed that his dad would tell him. That he would warn him so he wouldn’t wake up in an empty house and a note that he couldn’t read. 

He had spent the next two weeks tumbling through chores and ways to entertain himself. There was a sort of babysitter that would drop by on most days. His memory of him was fuzzy but he remembered a funky smell and how he always appeared in a black suit. 

He remembered the way he spoke, teasing and mean. He only dropped by to make sure Wilbur hadn’t dropped dead and to hand him groceries. 

Sometimes he looked out the window to see the stranger chase off monsters that wandered a bit too close, before muttering something and leaving. 

Other than that Wilbur was left to his devices in a house too big for him. 

He was eight when he had first woke up to this new way of life.

* * *

Wilbur wakes up on his birthday with a small birthday hat. He checks up on Tommy and feeds him and then reads in his room. Tommy starts begging to go see Tubbo again and Wilbur can’t see why not so they head to the path in the forest. 

Luckily Tubbo and his family aren’t busy and they take Tommy with no complaints, Wilbur is also invited but he declines. The invitation is uncomfortable at best but he doesn’t know why exactly. He looks past the doorway to the clustered furniture and the array of photographs pinned to walls and he thinks back to his own home. He thinks, _Tommy deserves to grow up here._

Wilbur clenches his fist and heads back home.   
  


* * *

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wilbur asks when he notices a familiar green near the doorway. Dream looks up from whatever he was doing in the grass and beams at Wilbur. 

“Aw man I totally thought I was about to wait here forever. You should totally put up a sign and shit like a whole ‘lunch break come back at eight.” He rambles. 

Wilbur rolls his eyes fondly and starts unlocking the door. He gestures for Dream to hurry in. 

They both walk in and Wilbur locks the door. When he turns around he finds Dream holding his hands out with a poorly wrapped gift. The wrapping paper is yellow and there’s obvious pieces of tape that aren’t at all neatly placed.

Wilbur loves it.

“Happy birthday Wilbur!” Dream yells as he shoves his gift into Wilbur’s hands. He takes it with care and unwraps it slowly with his hands shaking.

If Dream notices he doesn’t mention it as he encourages Wilbur. 

The first thing that Wilbur notices is that there are multiple items, he picks up the smallest item and examines it. 

It’s a guitar pick but there’s an unnatural sheen. It’s main color is white but on both sides is a smiley face weirdly similar to Dream’s mask. Somehow Wilbur feels that was on purpose. 

He moves on to the next item which looks like a simple recorder but the enchanted sheen is almost blinds him. Wilbur looks to Dream who mouths ‘later’ and he points excitedly at the box. 

Two more items remain and Wilbur takes out something in a frame. There’s no tinge of magic this time but the sight of whats actually framed makes him tingle nonetheless.

Wilbur stares at a quick drawing of himself playing the guitar under the night sky. It’s a sketch, undeniably but the roughness gives it a nice touch. Wilbur stares at the peaceful look on himself and feels himself blush as he hurriedly looks at the next gift. 

He hears Dream laugh and he’s about to mouth him off when he finally registers the final gift. 

It’s a talent show flier for the village. It’s bright and welcoming, the date shows it’s for next month. 

“You just- uhm have to RVSP. I already signed you up but I thought to just leave the RVSP up for you in case- I don’t know second thoughts?” 

Wilbur stares at Dream. 

His idiot friend slowly trails off and shuffles awkwardly. Which means he’s definitely not prepared when Wilbur tackles him in a hug and they both go tumbling down in laughter. 

_Thank you,_ he thinks.   
  


* * *

Wilbur’s never been one for confrontation which is why he leaves the talent show flier on the table, in an obvious place. He circled the date and written when his act was starting up. 

In reality, the talent show is actually a small thing but for Wilbur it’s everything. It’ll be the first time performing in front of more than just a sleepy Dream and Tommy who’s only known common for less than half his life. 

He circles it in the calendar, in glitter markers this time. He worries that it’s not enough, maybe Phil and Techno didn’t get the message with the constant fliers. 

He writes a note- a sort of invitation and leaves it near their stuff. Simple stuff saying what it was and how he really hoped they could be there and how it would really mean a lot. 

Techno and Phil leave, but it’s ok, he reasons with himself. They’ll be back in time. He stares at the calendar and hates how he’s reminded of his birthday. He forces himself to turn to his guitar and practice.  
  


* * *

Wilbur stares at the crowd. He searches for a sight of pink hair or a green and white bucket hat. 

He sees Dream’s famous hoodie and he sees Tommy basically thrumming with excitement with Tubbo swinging his feet in his own chair. 

He searches the crowd again. 

_And again._

_And again._

When he’s called up for his turn he takes a final desperate look into the crowd. He finds himself looking at Dream’s face mask and he sees Dream put up a thumbs up. 

_Asshole_ , he thinks fondly. Ignoring the sheer disappointment and acceptance, he faces the crowd fully and leans into the mic.

* * *

  
In the end he doesn’t win but he does place in second. He goes to Tubbo’s home with Dream by his side and he looks at the happy atmosphere and he thinks back to the home he’s been in most of his life.

Isolated and quiet. Comfortable but not _homey_. He thinks about Tommy, bright and loud Tommy growing up with that. 

Unknowingly, he accepted something else that day.

* * *

  
He’s angry and that’s normal it’s basically routine at this point that he’s frustrated but usually the source of the anger and pain isn’t anywhere nearby. 

Seeing his adoptive dad and seeing his older brother have a close bond, something he will never be a part of no matter how he tries. Almost mockingly holding it out of reach. 

He hates confrontation but for some reason he wants to yell and he wants Phil to understand or to at least _try_. 

He knows they notice too, they avoid him just as well. At first. 

Dinner is mushroom soup and toasted bread. Wilbur can’t bring himself to enjoy it when he can feel burning stares. 

“Look Wilbur if this is about-“ 

“How was your trip,” Wilbur interrupts. 

He doesn’t fail to notice the glances, he continues to sip at the thick soup.

“Wilbur I know you’re upset. That we missed the uh- the talent show.” Its literally not funny how Wilbur can feel the cringe in his voice and he hates the heat that crawls up to his ears.

Because it’s- phrasing it like it’s something _childish_. Like it’s _nothing_ to get upset over like he’s the one being a _problem_ and throwing a tantrum over nothing. 

He swallows a chunk of cooked mushroom. 

“Oh, so you didn’t conveniently forget? Considering how much stuff you’ve missed I would’ve thought your memory was going bad, old man.” 

He ignores Techno’s huff. 

“We can’t miss The Great Technoblade’s MCC championship but it’s ok we can miss poor soft Wilbur’s talent show.” He shoves a piece of bread in his mouth. 

Phil sighs, “Mate, it’s just- there are priorities-“ Phil stops and immediately cringes at the wording but he continues on, “me and your brother had to go fix something, if we didn’t a lot of people would’ve gotten hurt. I wish it didn’t come to it but we ultimately had to go.” 

Wilbur hates everything. He can feel fresh new anger flood against the old anger and he can feel them mix, old frustrations and cries suddenly being fueled by this new thrumming anger. 

He knows Techno can feel it when his eyes sharpen, he’s about to open his mouth when Techno butts in. 

“i noticed you got new stuff, that’s cool.” He tilts his head, “i know Phil didn’t get you them. And you definitely don’t have enough money for custom items. So I’m wondering where exactly you got them from.” 

He can feel the anger flooding within him, “You- you went through my shit?! Techno what the _fuck_ you had no right-“ 

“its normal to be worried for your younger siblings and I think it was warranted considering all the new shiny things you got-“

“It’s fucking trust! They were a goddamn birthday gift and I can’t believe you even went through my _shit_ in the first place-“ 

“i know damn well Phil didn’t get you anything like that-“

“It wasn’t from Phil-!” 

“then who was it from-“

“It was from my friend you fucking nosy _bitch_ -“

“oh name calling that’s so mature of you softy, let me guess it’s the same friend who drops in when we’re never here right-“

“Damn right it fucking is! And what a fucking surprise it is when you’re barely here! Maybe if you went to the fucking talent show you would’ve met him-“

“oh here we are again with the damn talent show- Phil already told you it wasn’t exactly on the agenda of important things to do why can’t you just give it up already!?”

“ _Because it was important to me!!!_ ” Wilbur screams. 

He’s crying now and he thinks Techno’s just notices at the same time as he does because he looks taken aback. Wilbur can feel all of his old frustrations explode out of him all at once. 

“It’s always Techno this- Techno that!! He takes you everywhere while I’m fucking just- _left behind!_ And I can’t even leave because you dumped a baby on me when I was also just a kid!! Did you even think for a second what that does to a goddamn kid who’s alone in some stupid clearing?!” He yells facing Phil now, “You can’t even bother to learn about the fucking pity kids you took in- I looked at you’re damn poor excuse of a gift and let me tell you Phil!”

He laughs, “I hate weapons, I hate them so much but I carried them for you because I knew you liked them! I knew you were just trying to protect me!” 

“Maybe if you actually spent more than a fucking business day in you’re own damn house you’d learn my favorite color- or the fact that I won second place! Or maybe that Tommy’s best friend is Tubbo!” 

Wilbur takes a deep breath, “Why can’t you at least _pretend_ to give a shit about us pity kids!” 

He lets out a loud sob before running to his room and slamming the door behind him only to be met with Tommy’s wet gaze. 

Tommy stares at him before he pulls out a small disk and pushes it into Wilbur’s hands. He lets out a wet laugh and hugs Tommy to his chest.

He cries.

And when he wakes up to a house that’s quiet, with Tommy by his side. 

He feels something inside him twist, a need, a desire that _something needs to change._ Something needs to give. 

He thinks back to Tubbo’s warm home. He looks around at his own cold house. 

Wilbur’s never been much of a thinker, a planner. But he can’t mess this up. He stares at Tommy and thinks on what to do next.

* * *

He goes to Tubbo’s home and talks to his guardians, he tries to give them diamonds and gold but they politely push it back to them. He looks at their eyes, which hold an understanding in them and he wants to cry. He drops off Tommy by Tubbo’s home with a letter and walks back to the clearing.

He doesn’t have much to pack. There isn’t much he has any personal attachments too but he definitely packs his guitar and all of Dream’s gifts. He shoves paper and ink, picture frames and money. Extra sets of clothes and food before he stumbles on the small netherite dagger Phil gifted him. 

He shoves it in the bag too.

* * *

  
Dream expectantly drops by and is immediately startled by Wilbur’s appearance. He whirls around as if expecting someone to pop out but then he focuses on Wilbur. 

Wilbur who has a guitar case and a bag filled with supplies. 

“Uh did I miss something,” Dream trailed off. 

“I’m going with you,” Wilbur states. 

Dream does a double take, “What-“ 

The way his green friend is genuinely surprised at this turn of events is amusing but he has a schedule to keep. 

“This is cute and all but this isn’t some on the spot decision. It’s been on my mind for a while but I never really felt like going through with it. Things have changed however and well- I’d like to leave. With you.” 

Dream, having finally accepted this strange turn of events, grins. 

“Oh- uh ok! Yeah ok! So I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this but there’s a- I have a world! My very own one actually and there’s already a few people there- I was going to invite you but I didn’t really want to drag you from here but I guess this is ok too!” 

Dream claps his hands, “I think you’ll really like it there, there’s a few rules but nothing too bad just y’know- no stealing or griefing that kind of stuff.” 

Wilbur smiles as he and his best friend travel deeper into the forest. 

“What’s it called?” 

“Nothing too extravagant unfortunately- just DreamSMP!”

**Author's Note:**

> Completely honest if you’re confused at the ages don’t worry, so am I. I tried to keep them vague but then not vague enough that you knew in general what age was going on. Also e were a lot go things I wanted to explore, such as Phil did not leave a toddler with an eight year old,,,,,,alone. He had Schlatt drop by and feed Tommy and teach Wilbur, Wilbur can’t remember shit about his childhood thought cuz who can so. 
> 
> I could ramble on and on here but instead check out my Twitter, I mostly retweet stuff but I’ll ramble about shit too
> 
> My Twitter is @miskippy1


End file.
